Stay
by irishflute
Summary: Sebastian's never had a problem keeping feelings out of his relationship, but all that might be about to change. Set during On My Way 3X14 , from Sebastian's POV


**A/N: I do not own Glee, nor do I own the songs mentioned in this fic. Shoutout to the lovely Slythatheart who helped me fall in love with Smythofsky and prompted me to add my own contributions to the fandom! Read her stuff - it's brilliant.**

**Warnings: Some coarse language, examples of homophobia, mentions of suicide (attempt, past)**

Sebastian rolled his eyes as he scrolled through his facebook news feed, wondering why he was "friends" with such utterly incompetent buffoons. Why was every other post about the weather? Anyone with half a brain could look out a window and see it was storming. Sebastian was certainly aware of it, as he'd just spent twenty minutes driving home from Dalton in the downpour. Was it really necessary to alert the world via social media? Sebastian was about to log out when a post caught his eye:

"_Blaine Anderson_ was tagged at _Lima Memorial Hospital_ with six other people."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. Surely this wasn't still about his eye. That was weeks ago, and former Warbler had barely been admitted then. He quickly read the original post:

"**Sam Evans** Praying for a speedy recovery, Dave! Remember, you're not alone – with Dave Karofsky, Mercedes Jones, Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Quinn Fabray, and Joe Hart"

Sebastian froze. He wasn't supposed to care about Dave. The only thing they had in common was a history of hatred for Gay-Face, and Karofsky had put that behind him for some reason. Sure, they'd spoken at Scandals a few times, but it never meant anything. It was never going any further. Sebastian hadn't even bothered to accept the friend request Dave sent him a week or two ago. So why was he so anxious to find out what had happened to the boy? Hand shaking slightly, Sebastian went to his friend requests and clicked "accept" next to David Karofsky. Steeling himself somewhat, he went to Dave's profile. He was met with a barrage of hate.

"Beter luck nxt tyme FAG!"

"Too bad u didn't die. Try try again!"

"U cant evn kill urself right, fucking homo! Haha LOSER"

"Just stay in the closet!"

Drawing a quick breath, Sebastian put a hand to his mouth. A wave of unexpected nausea swept over him. He didn't even try to pretend he was only bothered by the blatant homophobia or the atrocious spelling and grammar. _Dave._ Dave had tried to kill himself. The last post made him particularly sick – hadn't he said nearly the same thing to Dave a few days ago, when he saw him at Scandals?

"_So … so how do you get a guy to like you?" Dave asked nervously, leaning in close to Sebastian. Too close. The two had been talking for a few minutes, and Dave was getting entirely too comfortable. It was time for Sebastian to send him off before things got out of hand._

"_You get a guy? Please," he scoffed, stomping down the strange jittery feeling in his chest and deliberately keeping his eyes on the jukebox in front of him. It was surprisingly difficult to bring himself to drive the other boy off. Maybe it would be easier if he didn't look at him._

"_Why? What's wrong with me?" The hurt in Dave's voice was palpable even without a visual to go with it._

_Sebastian took a breath, stifled his feelings, and made his attack. "Well first off, you are about a hundred pounds overweight." Not entirely true. Sure, Dave could stand to lose a few pounds, but he was a football player. He had a bigger build. "Quit waxing your eyebrows; you look like Liberace." Who cared about his eyebrows? Dave probably didn't; at least, he probably hadn't before Sebastian brought them up. "In fact, just stay in the closet, buddy."_

_Just stay in the closet._

Sebastian couldn't stop looking at the comments on Dave's wall. With a sort of morbid fixation, he read more and more. Finally reaching the beginning, Sebastian started putting the pieces together. It seemed as though someone from Dave's school had seen him at Breadstix with Kurt on Valentine's Day (why on earth would he be at Breadstix with Kurt on _any_ day?) and outed him a few days later. The news had exploded (wasn't there anything better to do in Ohio?), and that same day – yesterday – Dave had tried to kill himself.

He swallowed the guilt he felt building up in his stomach. Clearly, the closed-minded ass-hats from Dave's school had driven him over the edge – it had nothing to do with _Sebastian's_ comments at Scandals. Sebastian was practically famous for his biting remarks and cutting sarcasm. Surely Dave didn't take his remarks personally enough to … to do _this_ because of them. Even Sebastian wasn't self-centered enough to think so.

Still, if he had behaved differently, maybe Dave wouldn't have felt so alone. He could have given Dave the honest answer – _"You could get any guy you wanted, Bear Cub, and if you keep standing close enough for me to smell you like this I might take you home with me right now."_ Things could have been different. Maybe he and Dave would even be together … _No,_ Sebastian thought firmly._ That shit's for boring people like Hummel and Anderson. I don't do domestic._

Scrolling back up Dave's wall, his eyes fell again on the post where Anderson was tagged by Sam Evans. The group had been to see him just over an hour ago, it appeared. Lima Memorial. Logging out of facebook and closing his laptop, Sebastian picked up keys. On the way to the door, he stopped, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Nick? Yeah, I heard … That's actually why I called. I think I've figured out our set list for Regionals."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The heels of his well-polished shoes clicked with uncomfortable volume on the white tile floor of the hospital as Sebastian made his way to the front desk. The receptionist glanced up from her paperwork as he approached.

"How may I help you?" she asked coolly.

"I – uh, I'm here to see a fr— er, David Karofsky. Could you point me towards David Karofsky's room?" Sebastian cursed himself. What was happening to him? He was _never_ this tongue-tied. Never. Why did he care so much?

"Just a moment," said the woman, still shuffling through her papers. She pulled a numbered "Visitor" nametag from somewhere in the pile. "Name?" she asked, bored.

"Sebastian Smythe," he stated, impatiently watching her write it out. Finally, she handed him the sticker and shifted her gaze to the computer in front of her.

"Karofsky, David R … 232C. Visiting hours are over in half an hour; you'll have to leave by that time," she instructed absently, already half-submersed in her paperwork again.

"Thank you," Sebastian managed, biting off an insult. It wouldn't do to antagonize the hospital staff, not when they could easily kick him out. He needed to see Dave – see for himself that the boy was okay. Nothing else mattered. He did, however, ditch the ridiculous nametag in the first trash can he passed. The idiotic receptionist had spelled his name wrong, anyway.

In no time, Sebastian was outside Dave's room. Suddenly anxious, he paused. What if Dave didn't want to see him? He had every right to tell him to leave. Their last encounter had been anything but friendly. If their roles were reversed, Sebastian wouldn't hesitate to tell the other boy to go to hell and take his bitchy attitude with him. Still, he'd made it this far. Hesitating, Sebastian knocked lightly and stepped into the room.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked with false bravado.

Dave turned away from the small television in the corner of his room and looked towards his visitor. "Sebastian?" he said, eyebrows raised, his face caught between a smile and apprehension. "What are you doing here?"

Sebastian shrugged, unsettled by the rasp of Dave's voice and the bruising on his throat. _So he tried to hang himself._ "I thought I'd see if there was anything good on TV."

Dave snorted. "Am I supposed to believe this box is the only television in Lima?" he joked weakly. The corners of Sebastian's mouth twitched upward, but the smile failed to reach his eyes. He didn't know how to answer. He didn't know how much he was allowed to care. Dave looked away as the silence grew.

"Damn it, Dave!" Sebastian exclaimed, pivoting sharply away from the hospital bed. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, turning back towards Dave. "You made me worry," he said, his tone accusatory. He softened slightly. "I mean, I was worried about you."

"You were?" Dave asked, guarded but hopeful. "Really?

Sebastian sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Come on, Bear Cub, I don't just _say_ shit like that. Yes, _really._"

"Thanks," Dave said, looking thoughtful.

"There's something else," Sebastian interrupted the silence, trying to take the focus off of himself.

"Oh?"

"We – the Warblers – are dedicating our Regionals performance to you, this Saturday. We're asking for donations to Lady Gaga's Born This Way Foundation in your name."

"Really?" Dave grinned, blushing but happy. "That – that's really nice of you. I wish I could be there."

"I think it'll be televised, on one of the local stations. Maybe you can catch part of it," Sebastian informed him, almost managing nonchalance.

Dave smiled. "I'll try to do that," he said. "So, is that how you found out? Through the Warblers, when they decided to do the dedication?"

"No," Sebastian admitted, looking as though he was smelling something unpleasant. He neglected to mention that he had been the one who suggested the idea. "I found out through Blaine Anderson, unfortunately. Believe it or not, he still hasn't deleted me on facebook, and he was tagged here by Sam Evans, with a group, a few hours ago."

Dave nodded slowly. "So, if you were on facebook, I guess you also saw …"

"Yeah, I saw it," Sebastian spat, eyes flashing. "And those Jersey Shore wannabes had better hope I never get a hold of them."

Smiling, Dave relaxed somewhat. "You didn't strike me as the protective type, Seb."

Sebastian shrugged it off, attempting to squelch the warm feeling spreading through him at the way Dave said his name like that. "I'm only a bitch to those who deserve it," he said lightly, smirking. He winced as he recalled his last conversation with Dave. The other boy had most definitely _not_ deserved it. "Except when I'm trying to avoid … things," he amended.

Dave perked slightly, trying not to look too eager. "So … at Scandals the other night … Did I deserve it, or … was there something else?"

Sebastian closed his eyes. _Now or never,_ he thought blandly. "You scare me, Dave," he admitted. "You make me feel things I usually manage to dodge. I don't _do_ this touchy-feely bullshit. But you – you make me want to." Cringing, Sebastian refused to open his eyes. He didn't need to see Dave laughing at him – or worse, looking at him with pity. "Look, forget it. I should go."

"No," Dave said quickly. "Please, stay." He looked down. "I don't want to forget it," he added quietly.

Sebastian just stared at him for a moment. _Too late to go back now,_ he supposed. He stepped towards the bed and took Dave's hand. "I'm not going anywhere.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Staring at the chemistry textbook open in front of him, Sebastian tried to keep from looking towards the door of the Lima Bean. Earlier that day, he had sent Blaine a text requesting this meeting. The other boy's reply wasn't particularly friendly, but it was affirmative: "I'll come, but I won't be alone." Sebastian had no idea how many people Blaine would bring, but he could only assume the group would come over as soon as they got out of class. Meanwhile, all he could do was wait and try to get some homework done.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Sebastian almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching until they reached him.

"Let me break it down to you, from one bitch to another," Santana started, skipping formalities and sitting down. He should have guessed Blaine would bring the fiery Latina. Sure, he'd slushied the girl, but she was probably the only member of New Directions he felt like he should actually watch out for. Their Smooth Criminal duet had been _intense._ Behind her stood a somewhat spacey looking blonde girl; Anderson and Hummel were on the other side of the table. Santana continued, "All of this vicious, underhanded crap has got to stop."

"Exactly. That's why I called you here," Sebastian interrupted quickly, regaining control of the meeting. He turned away from Santana. "First of all, Blaine, I am sorry about your eye."

"That means nothing to me," Blaine spat.

"Just give me a chance," Sebastian said earnestly. He _hated _this, putting himself at the mercy of others, but he knew it had to be done. "I have no excuses, other than a lame prank got completely out of control." Hummel, arms folded, raised an eyebrow at this, but remained silent. "Second, the Finn photos have all been destroyed. I want the Warblers to win fair and square. And we're going to take donations for Lady Gaga's Born This Way Foundation. Win, lose, or draw, we're going to dedicate our performance to Dave Karofsky. I thought you might want to join us," he finished, looking up at the group.

Santana and the blonde looked towards Hummel and Anderson, clearly uncertain. "Wait for the punch. You know it's coming," Kurt muttered suspisciously, leaning into Blaine.

"No," Sebastian breathed out fervently. He chose his next words with care. "Not this time. For too long, I have treated _everything_ like a big joke …" he paused, remembering how he'd behaved toward Dave the other night. Remembering why he was here, why he needed so desperately to apologize. "It's all fun and games. Until it's not."

The New Directions members just stared at him. Sebastian tried to maintain eye contact, looking as open and honest as he could. This wasn't for him – personally, Sebastian couldn't care less what the losers at McKinley thought of him. This was for Dave. For whatever reason, Dave was still friends with these people. That mattered. Sebastian was just about to give up when Blaine spoke.

"I believe you," he said, nodding slightly. Kurt looked slightly incredulous, but the two girls seemed to accept Blaine's assessment. He turned to Kurt. "He really does seem sorry this time … and how could this be a bad thing, taking charity donations for Karofsky?"

Hummel stared at Blaine for a moment then shifted his gaze to Sebastian, looking him over critically. "Fine. We'll help the Warblers set up their fundraising baskets."

"Let's make dolphin posters, too!" the blonde girl blurted excitedly. "Remember the awesome ones I made for your campaign, Kurt? We could use those! The unicorns are getting tired of sitting in my room. I think they're plotting something."

"We'll need new posters, Britt," Santana told the girl. Sebastian was glad someone else had responded – he couldn't think of a reply that didn't include the words "idiotic" or "out-patient mental institution."

"Okay," said the blonde – Britt? – dubiously, "but I think we'll have to build an ark if we make more animals. My room's too small."

"All right, Brittany, I think it's time to go," Kurt prompted, pasting a wide smile on his face.

As Santana stood to leave, she leaned in close to Sebastian. "Listen, weasel brain, just because we're helping you out doesn't mean I'm not watching you. I can go from zero to bitch in half a second, and I am not afraid to go all Lima Heights on your skinny white ass."

Sebastian gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Duly noted."

Seemingly satisfied, the Latina trotted off, her pinky linked with Brittany's. Blaine followed behind, but Kurt hung back.

"Listen, Sebastian," he started, still wary but slightly more relaxed, "what you're doing, for Dave – it's a really good thing. I hope you're doing it for the right reasons."

"I am," Sebastian assured him, holding his gaze.

After a moment, Kurt broke eye contact with a brief nod. "Good." He paused, the corners of his mouth playing up in a slight smirk. "Also, Dave and Santana dated for a while, and it ended amicably, so don't think for a moment that her Lima Heights protection doesn't apply to him. Cheers!" he finished, skipping off to catch up with the others.

Eyebrows raised, Sebastian slowly let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Overall, the encounter had gone better than expected. He even had Hummel's support … sort of. Considering his previous interactions with the group, he really shouldn't complain. They had been almost naive in how readily they'd accepted his apology. While he usually looked down upon such naivety as ignorance or stupidity, Sebastian had to appreciate their genuine forgiveness. It would certainly make his life easier if Kurt wasn't sitting there filling Dave's mind with some conspiracy theory that he was somehow trying to ruin Dave's life from the inside. Dave would probably have enough trouble trusting him _without_ being fed rumors of his evil and manipulative ways.

Wait, Dave and Santana had _dated?_

Sighing, Sebastian closed his chemistry book and packed up. He wasn't getting any work done, anyway. He might as well go home and prepare for Saturday's competition.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Standing near the center of the stage with his fellow Warblers, Sebastian adjusted his tie as he waited for the curtain to rise. Adrenaline pumping, he couldn't help but grin. This performance was going to be amazing. The songs were perfect, the choreography was both dapper and energetic, and, for the first time in a long time, he wouldn't have to fake the emotions behind the routine. He wasn't just singing to an auditorium full of awe-struck fans and rivals. He was singing to Dave Karofsky, through that crappy little TV in his hospital room. _Maybe I can get him a better recording later,_ Sebastian mused.

The announcer's voice broke into his thoughts. "And now, from Westerville, Ohio, the Dalton Academy Warblers!" As soon as the lights hit them, the Warblers burst into opening bars of "Stand," by Lenny Kravitz. Throwing himself into the music, Sebastian clapped on beat with the others. His enthusiasm was boundless as he broke out of the Warblers' stiffer opening form and eased into the opening verse.

Usually, when Sebastian smiled during a performance, he was basking in applause or simply putting on an act. Today, though, during this song, he just felt … _happy._ Genuinely happy. And not at someone else's expense. His joy radiated outward, pulsing through the other Warblers and into the audience. Grinning, he noticed the New Directions and even some of the Golden Goblets standing and cheering. He hoped Dave could feel the energy and positivity. _It's all for you, babe._

Reaching the final chorus, the Warblers formed a tight block with Sebastian at its center. He was glad his role as lead Warbler gave him more freedom with his choreography – he wasn't sure he could contain himself. Relaxed and happy, he enjoyed the performance.

As the number ended, Sebastian stood, breathing heavily and taking in the applause. After a moment, he stepped forward and addressed the audience. "Thank you! Just a reminder to please make a donation to one of our charity baskets. We're set up all around the auditorium. Just look for the Dalton blazer. Please, give what you can."

Stepping back into the form, the lights changed to a softer blue as the Warblers began "Glad You Came," by The Wanted. The opening was much more subdued than the previous song, but Sebastian had no trouble standing still and singing from the heart. While the "Stand" was one big pep talk about hanging on and refusing to give up, he saw "Glad You Came" was more of a personal ballad from himself to Dave.

"_The sun goes down, the stars come out  
__And all that counts is here and now.  
__My universe will never be the same.  
__I'm glad you came."_

At this, the tempo picked up. _Who knew an a cappella group could sound so techno?_ Sebastian thought briefly, breaking into another grin and bouncing in time. On cue, he joined the others in their dance break. Sliding to the front, he raised his chin and smirked. _Bear Cub, I hope you're listening._

"_You cast a spell on me, spell on me.  
__You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me,  
__And I decided you look well on me, well on me,  
__So let's go somewhere no one else can see you and me._

"_Turn the lights out now,  
__Now I'll take you by the hand,  
__Hand you another drink,  
__Drink it if you can,  
__Can you spend a little time?  
__Time is slipping away,  
__Away from us so stay,  
__Stay with me I can make,  
__Make you glad you came."_

As Sebastian repeated the chorus, the entire auditorium was on its feet. He had never sung to such an enthusiastic crowd, and he knew he had Dave to thank. Without that emotional tie, without that connection, this would be just another song. Just another performance. Instead, it meant so much more. _My universe will never be the same._

Dancing back into the same block they'd been in at the start of the song, the Warblers resumed their "oohs" as Sebastian prepared to sing the final chorus. Looking up, he began. "_The sun goes down; the stars come out."_ At this, he stepped forward, fighting back a smirk. Gazing straight ahead with open confidence, he wanted Dave to know just how much he meant the words he sang. _"And all that counts is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came; I'm glad you came."_

Taking in the cheers and applause, Sebastian bowed with the other Warblers and exited the stage so the Golden Goblets could get set. He watched the beginning of their first selection from the wings, but he quickly got bored. Sure, they could sing, but they had almost no choreography and they looked like something from a bad Renaissance festival. Even the name of their school was unfortunate – Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow? Really? And their overtly-religious song choice probably wouldn't get them any points with the judges this year – there weren't any nuns or Tea Party members in this batch. Losing interest, Sebastian sauntered off to find a seat in the auditorium. He saw no point in watching the last-place show choir.

Sebastian reached his seat just before the New Directions took the stage. As expected, Rachel Berry stood center stage. He vaguely wondered what would have happened if he'd gone through with his attempted blackmail. Somehow, he doubted the group's set list wouldn't have changed, but Finn would be looking much less happy as he danced with the soloist.

The show choir appeared to be singing a mash-up of "Fly" by Nicki Minaj and "I Believe I Can Fly" by R. Kelly. _Interesting._ And their choreography was much more organized than it usually appeared. They even brought out a fog machine for the occasion. It almost seemed as though the New Directions had started working on their performance more than an hour before the competition began.

Sebastian was surprised to see Rachel step back, blending in with the other students and allowing the boy in the wheelchair to sing lead with Santana rapping Nicki Minaj's lines. This was certainly different. Suddenly, Blaine took over Santana's part. _Damn, for a white boy, he sure can rap,_ thought Sebastian, impressed. Clapping along in spite of himself, he smiled. He could appreciate a well-done performance when he saw one.

Rachel and her oaf of a fiancé took lead vocals in the middle section, but before long, they gave the melody back to the wheelchair boy and a black girl – Mercedes? – sang vocal runs. _Maybe they would've been okay even if the loud-mouthed midget hadn't performed …_

For their second number, most of the regulars – including Berry – left the stage, leaving an all-female group. Sebastian only recognized a few – Santana, Mercedes, the ditzy blonde, and an equally-ditzy-looking brunette. The smaller group sang "What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger)," a Kelly Clarkson number. Watching the fiery Latina belt out the lyrics, Sebastian was happy to see her channeling her passion and anger into something positive, rather than a passive aggressive duet at a rival school, for example.

As the song ended, the girls exited the stage and Rachel Berry came back on by herself, singing "Here's To Us" by Halestorm, with a few edits in the lyrics, he noticed. If this had been their opening number, or even the second, the tiny girl standing alone on the stage might have lost the audience's attention – no matter how good she was, she wasn't much to look at – but as their third number, it worked. The crowd was already hooked, and it didn't take much to get them back on their feet. He had to hand it to Rachel – the girl had stage presence.

Before long, the other girls joined her on stage, singing backup, and after another minute, the boys joined them from the balconies above the auditorium. The other Warblers were all on their feet, pointing excitedly at the New Directions guys above them. Sebastian supposed seeing the performers so far off the stage was like watching a cat do cartwheels for the boys from Dalton. It had been a stretch for them to have guys off stage holding donation baskets during their own performance – they'd had to consult their official rule book and constitution to make sure it was allowed.

The song reached its climax with a well-executed key change by the munchkin, who was now making goo-goo eyes at Goliath above her. The choreography at this point was basically nonexistent as the girls skipped around stage, but it fit, setting a celebratory, relaxed tone. Sebastian couldn't tell if they were really _that_ secure in the quality of their performance or just happy about it, no matter how they placed. Either way, he decided, it was kind of nice. Unprofessional and amateurish, perhaps, but nice nonetheless.

Filing onto the stage, Sebastian took his place with the Warblers to await the trophy presentation. The Golden Goblets stood center stage with New Directions on the other end. He sighed with irritation as a group of techies wheeled a large coffin onto the stage. Apparently, the vampire judge would be announcing the winner. Great. Sebastian loved theatrics as much as the next guy – probably more – but the gimmicky late-night TV host was just tacky and obnoxious. Although he _had_ noticed the way Hummel squirmed when the overdressed Dracula-wannabe emerged from his bat-cave. That was rather enjoyable.

Speaking in an awful accent – was that supposed to be Transylvanian? – the vampire spewed some line of crap about crossing "oceans of time" to be here. Sebastian snorted. There was no way this creep came from farther away than Columbus. Looking around at his fellow Warblers, he was barely paying attention when the Golden Goblets were announced as third place. He watched, bewildered, as the oddly dressed singers cheered and high-fived, exiting the stage, happy with their last-place finish. _Freaks._ The Warblers shifted their block to their right, taking the place of the losing group and meeting the McKinley show choir center stage.

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for," the clownish vampire intoned, drawing out the drama. Pressing his lips together, Sebastian glanced towards the competition. It could easily go either way, but he really wanted to win. Not for himself – not _just_ for himself – but for Dave. "The 2012 Midwest Regional Champion, from McKinley High, the New Directions!"

Cheers erupted on all sides of Sebastian before the announcement was over. For all the grief the McKinley show choir suffered at school, they sure had an enthusiastic home-town crowd in that auditorium. Sebastian swallowed heavily as he and the rest of the Warblers watched the New Directions jump up and down, hugging each other and screaming with delight. He was disappointed – maybe a little bitter – but not as upset as he'd expected to be. He had given it his all; he had enjoyed the performance. And even though they didn't win, the Warblers had still, by early estimates, raised nearly $4,000 in Dave's name for the Born This Way foundation. That mattered far more than the second-place trophy Sebastian was being handed. Besides, Dave would probably be happy his McKinley friends had won. The only Dalton boy he knew was Sebastian while he was practically obsessed with Hummel and he'd been on the McKinley football team with nearly all the guys in the club.

Blaine walked towards the blazer-clad boys, most of whom looked as though their puppy had just died. He shook Sebastian's hand first and then went around hugging his old friends and congratulating them on their performance. Most were able to convincingly celebrate Blaine's success with his new group, raving about his part in the "Fly" mash-up.

"We're just nothing without you center stage, I guess," said Nick, half-joking. _Ouch._ Sebastian winced inwardly, preparing to laugh it off, but Blaine beat him to it.

"Don't even pretend," he said lightly. "Sebastian was awesome, as were the rest of you, and you know it. Quit fishing for compliments! Besides, I sang lead for you at Regionals last year and we still lost. We didn't even win Sectionals outright – it was a tie, remember?"

"Well, maybe if we could've gotten you to sing something other than P!nk or Katy Perry …" Jeff chimed in. Everyone laughed as the conversation continued.

Relaxing, Sebastian tried to enjoy the friendly banter between Blaine and the Warblers, but he was still distracted. All he wanted to do was get back on the bus to Dalton so he could get his car and go visit Dave. He had to know what the other boy had thought of his performance. Somehow, he couldn't decide whether or not he was happy with it until he knew what Dave thought. _Stupid. He doesn't even know anything about show choirs. He probably didn't even watch. Why should his opinion matter so much to me anyway?_ Sebastian ignored the obvious answer, tugging on the edge of his blazer.

Before long, Kurt joined Blaine with the Warblers. Sharing a few brief hugs with his former classmates, the pale boy was smiling, but he, too, looked a bit impatient. After a moment, he lightly tapped Blaine's shoulder. "We should go soon, sweetie, if I'm going to make it to Lima Memorial before the wedding …" he murmured. _So Hummel's going to see him tonight, too,_ Sebastian thought, suppressing a sigh and absently wondering whether or not Gay Face would be gone before he got there. He didn't exactly feel like sharing his visiting hours with the aloof countertenor.

Blaine nodded. "Okay, love," he smiled, turning back towards the Warblers. "He's right; we really do need to get going. It was great seeing all of you – don't be strangers!"

"Same to you," Sebastian smoothly cut in before the other Dalton boys could start up some long, drawn-out goodbye. If he wasn't careful, they'd break into song – complete with tears and more hugging, probably. _Honestly, it's like these people don't have phones or facebook._ "We should be getting back to the bus, anyway. Warblers, out!"

Sebastian started walking. A few of the guys hung back slightly to get in another word or two, but most followed close behind him. Satisfied, Sebastian lengthened his stride. The sooner he could start putting distance between himself and this dumpy excuse for an educational facility, the sooner he could get to the hospital. He considered taking a quick shower first, though. It wouldn't do to show up smelling like public school.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Nearly two hours later, Sebastian pulled his silver BMW into a parking spot in front of Lima Memorial. Locking the car, he slid the keys into his pocket and walked toward the doors of the hospital carrying a small arrangement of flowers. He was nearly there when one of the doors opened and Kurt Hummel stepped out, wearing some sort of white shirt with too many buttons, a black jacket, and grey skinny jeans. Hummel stopped, raising his eyebrows in surprise, as he saw Sebastian, who grimaced. He had hoped to avoid another encounter with Mr. Fancy-Pants, but clearly, that would be too much to ask.

"Sebastian," Kurt greeted warily. "What – who are you here to see?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "The Easter Bunny," he drawled sarcastically.

Kurt sighed. "I only asked to be _nice,_" he huffed. "No need to be an ass about it. I just thought … whatever. Forget it, I'm leaving anyway." Folding his arms, he started to walk off towards his car.

"Dave," Sebastian interjected. Hummel paused, looking back. Sebastian stared deliberately at the columns in front of the hospital entrance. "I'm here to see Dave Karofsky."

Kurt slowly took a step back towards the other boy. "Why?" he asked simply.

_None of your fucking business. Who do you think you are, his mother?_ Sebastian pressed his lips together, still refusing to make eye contact. "I don't know; why did _you_ come visit him?"

Kurt blinked. "He's my friend."

Sebastian looked at him. "Well, he's my friend, too."

He could practically feel Hummel's eyes boring into him, scrutinizing him, looking for some sort of ulterior motive. Not finding one, he took a step back and gave Sebastian a sharp look. "He – he's happier, I think, or at least he's starting to be. He's starting to see that the future might not suck, after all. If you mess that up – if you do _one thing_ to set him back or send him back into that dark place, I swear –"

"I won't," Sebastian cut in, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt froze, startled at the contact. "I promise you, the _last_ thing I want to do is hurt him in any way." It was sickening, standing here, spilling his fucking heart out – to _Hummel_ of all people! – but … if it helped Dave, even a little, it would be worth it. He could do this.

Kurt was still regarding him with caution, but relaxed slightly. "Okay. Good." Kurt gave him a funny look. "Maybe you really have changed."

Sebastian nodded curtly, lowering his hand. This was turning out to be even more painful than he'd expected. "Yeah, maybe I _do_ have a heart somewhere in this cold, lifeless body of mine," he snorted.

Kurt laughed, smiling. His eyes softened. "Bye, Sebastian. I'll be seeing you around, I suppose."

Sebastian smiled wryly. "I suppose you will."

With that, Hummel turned and walked lightly toward his car while Sebastian stepped into the hospital. _Finally._ He recognized the woman behind the front desk as the same one from the other day. Ignoring he bold sign reading _"All visitors MUST register at the front desk before continuing to patient rooms,"_ he walked purposefully past the desk and down the hall, hoping she didn't notice him. He already knew where he was going, and he had absolutely no interest in wasting time letting the incompetent woman fill out another nametag. As he had predicted, she never even looked up from her papers. Smirking, Sebastian continued down the hallway to Dave's room. The door was open, and Dave was smiling as Sebastian walked in.

"Hey, stranger. Are they ever going to let you out of this place, or are they keeping you here until you can open your own second-hand flower shop?" Sebastian asked, adding his own bouquet to the various assortments already in place.

Dave laughed. "The doctor just took me off 72 hour watch right before Kurt came to visit, so I can go home tomorrow," he said happily.

Sebastian made a face. "So, you and Hummel … you're, like, officially friends now?"

Dave nodded happily, either oblivious to Sebastian's tone of disdain or choosing to ignore it. "Yeah, we are. He's been so nice, even after all the shit I've done to him, and … it feels good to know that someone's there for you. Even when you don't deserve it."

"Fair enough," Sebastian conceded with a small smile. "He's not the only one planning to stick around, though. Just so you know."

"Thanks, Seb. I really appreciate it." Dave's face lit up. "I watched you sing, on TV! Sorry you didn't win, though – I know you wanted to," he added, looking concerned.

"Yeah, well, it happens, I guess," Sebastian shrugged. "What did you think of it?" He tried not to hold his breath or look too hopeful.

Dave beamed. "Awesome! The singing, the dancing, the songs – everything. The first one was just so happy, and the second one –" Dave blushed. "The second one was really nice, too," he finished quickly.

Sebastian smirked, satisfied that the other boy had picked up on the significance of his song choices. "Glad you liked it, Bear Cub."

"Definitely!" Dave grinned. "And … thanks, for doing the whole charity thing and stuff. It means a lot," he said earnestly.

"It was the least we could do," Sebastian said intently. He took a step toward the bed. "Look, Dave, what I said before – I meant it. I'm not going anywhere, and I want to make sure you know that."

"Thanks, Seb. So, if you're sticking around, does that make us … friends?"

Sebastian grimaced. "Well, I was kind of hoping for more than _friends,_ but if that's all you're willing to give me, I guess I can deal. At least "friend" is a step up from "stalker," which is what I'd probably become otherwise."

Dave froze, his expression unreadable. "I'd like that."

Trying to keep his face light and free of emotion, Sebastian joked, "You'd like what? For me to stalk you? I think you've been reading too much Twilight – stalking is actually a _bad_ thing."

Slightly flustered, Dave's lips fluttered in amusement. "No, Sebastian, I don't want you to stalk me," he clarified. "But I think I _would_, maybe, like to be more than friends."

A broad smile slowly spread across Sebastian's face. "Then we're agreed. More-than-friends it is," he declared. "Seriously, though – you sure about this?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I am. At least, I _want_ to be. I don't know how. I've never exactly been a boyfriend, much less done … any of that other stuff," he finished in a rush, blushing furiously.

"Don't sell yourself short, Growly. I heard you dated Santana for a while," Sebastian teased playfully.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I pretended to date a lesbian. That _totally_ counts," he snorted. "Seriously, though, Seb. A week ago, I was still locked in the closet, and a year ago, I hadn't even come out to myself. It'll be a while before I'm ready to be all out and proud and physical and stuff. And you … you're just so confident and sexy, and you're basically the opposite of monogamy. Do you really want to do this? With _me?"_

Smirking, Sebastian tilted his head to the side. "Did you just call me sexy?"

Turning red, Dave rolled his eyes. "Well, you _are._ Anyone with eyes could tell you _that."_

"Yeah, but _you_ just said it, and the way that makes me feel … Look, this will be something different for both of us," Sebastian explained. "We'll have to make adjustments. I'm not saying it'll be easy; I'm not saying it'll happen overnight. But sometimes, you've just got to go for it."

Dave still looked anxious, but his eyes glowed with hope. "Let's go for it, then," he said. His voice shook slightly, but he sounded happy.

Sebastian took a deep breath. "You jump, I jump, Jack."

Dave stared at him blankly. "Who's Jack?"

Sebastian sighed. "All right, I've just decided what movie we're watching on our first date. You have _so_ much to learn." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Good thing I'm such an amazing teacher."

Relaxed, Dave reached up to take Sebastian's hand. "I can't wait."


End file.
